Call Out

The very light at the end of the tunnel.

Shawn dropped his half-eaten steamed toast in pure shock.

Impossible — he's a professional, he doesn't make mistakes.

When the call failed to connect, he laughed in relief.

Sollertia knew for a fact that his unprofessionalism could have resulted in their escape, although he was reluctant to accept that as the truth himself. He should have double, no, triple-checked the pockets of all of his players when he picked them up that night. It was merely a stroke of luck that the phone died out before he could have potentially been at risk. The cops could have come running here, but for once Lady Luck had his life's mercy.

"I did that on purpose, wasn't that little experience fun and thrilling? I sure hope it was!" he purred sarcastically before clapping his hands together in assurance. Shawn decided to take the extra step to really drive home the mockery, "Now get back to searching, you peasants."

"Rude~" shrilled Kathy in an unsupportive voice, stretching the word more than it probably should be, her finger twirled between the strands. The players collectively sighed, leaving all but the unusable phone and Fern behind like a broken toy. I... don't wanna play with you anymore.

Fern, already suffering from the absolute disappointment that he already was, felt the immense, anchoring weight of the situation stacking on more and more as he began desiring the ability to simply off himself and wilt away into a pile of ash.

The neon-green numbers maliciously fluttered the amount of time that they had spent, it had only been seven minutes and things seemed to have gotten nowhere. This room was intentionally made to be solved by cracking several locks throughout the room of trials but Shawn failed to recognise that cheating was an anomaly.

Keith randomly blurts a suggestion, "What if there was something behind the bookshelf like the Secret Annex or something?" a throwaway line that wasn't supposed to be meaningful.

But I thought it was worth a try, there weren't any real downsides. Doing the logical thing and with my strength, I pushed aside the bookcase to the very edge of the room, making an effort to not shove over the shelf's contents. The revelation sourced a hidden secret and underneath a fresh coat of paint was a trapdoor flap attached to the wall. Accordingly, the entrance was accommodated by another lock, this time differently coloured blue. If this detail was simply forgotten or overlooked, they would have been locked here for a much longer time. So it wasn't as much of a throwaway line if you thought more deeply about it.

There's only one way of getting out of this place- room at least... This shouldn't take long.

Fern, now starting to once again comprehend his surroundings, noticed how I had begun rolling up my sleeves. I give myself a good clap on the face, readying myself.

"Harris, what are you-" Fern stuttered, tripping forward a little but was ultimately far too late.

The steady beating repeated in my consciousness, ready to explode at any moment. The trapdoor displayed dents and cracks with each surging strike, the door chipping away the cheap timber, the method entirely ignored any complexities of a lock and just stuck with old-fashioned brute force. The floor was now a complete mess with bits of timber and compressed wood scattered in the ruins of the once grand wooden trapdoor. It's not overkill if there weren't any other way of doing so.

"Okay then."

"Woah, wow, wow, wow," Kathy paused, nodding to the impressive feat, rather than trying to tear her red zip tie from her wrist, "Harry, you're the best," she teased, peering in for a closer examination of the dented handiwork, Keith frowned upon hearing this compliment and glares at his own measly palm. I wasn't used to taking compliments so in turn, I nervously mumbled a 'thank you' and distanced myself from the trapdoor and to the back sofa.